


You Put The Friend In Boyfriend

by thesockmonster



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9573731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesockmonster/pseuds/thesockmonster
Summary: Jongin never thought of Chanyeol as more than a friend until he walks in on Chanyeol moaning out his name.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotusk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/gifts).



> Day Four of the Valentine's Advents. Woo Chankai!

Chanyeol has a really ugly orgasm face. It’s like there’s a black hole between his eyes, trying to suck everything in, and it’s so unattractive, so _weird_ that Jongin kinda stands there and stares.

He didn’t mean to interrupt Chanyeol during his personal time, but maybe if Chanyeol wanted that much privacy, he wouldn’t have been jerking off while sitting on the couch. Normally, this is the kind of situation Jongin would write off - seriously, everyone masturbates - and he’d just walk out of the apartment, give it a few minutes, then walk back in like he hadn’t seen anything.

But this time - this time it’s different.

It’s not that Jongin was transfixed by the way the thick muscles in Chanyeol’s arm had flexed as he worked his fist up and down his cock, or even that he’d been distracted by the _size_ of Chanyeol’s dick - which falls on the impressive side. And Jongin wasn’t even drawn in by the way his entire face had scrunched when he’d come over his hand and stomach, his cock pushing in and out of his fist as he let out this deep guttural groan.

It was what Chanyeol said _when_ he came. He’d moaned out Jongin’s name.

The sound of it had been surprising, mostly because Chanyeol and Jongin have never been more than friends. Not even friends who mess around sometimes. Just friends. Since they’d been part of the whole ring-around-the-dorm-room rounds in freshman year in college, when Jongin and Chanyeol being paired together, they’d struck up a friendship that’s managed to become part of Jongin’s comfort zone. He treasures Chanyeol as a friend, and as a roommate even now that they’re in an apartment instead of a cramped college dorm.

And now he’s treasuring the way his name sounded, the way his body is heating in response, licking over his dry lips as he tries to restart his brain. It seems to have short circuited in shock. He’s standing just inside the living room, his shoe halfway off and his mind has the last twenty seconds on a repeating loop, and each loop has Jongin wondering how he’d never noticed how enticingly hot Chanyeol is - just not when he’s coming.

Jongin being attracted to guys isn’t a revelation. He’s known his preference since he was twelve. There was never an existential crisis, or some huge epiphany. Jongin’s just . . . always liked guys. He’d never thought to ask Chanyeol, but he does remember, vaguely, seeing both women and men hanging off Chanyeol before. It’s just never mattered enough to Jongin to bring it up.

“I’m, um-” Jongin begins, startling Chanyeol who clearly had no idea Jongin was even home. Chanyeol looks over at Jongin, his eyes wide and his hands falling to cover his softening dick. Jongin swallows. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes, and then I think maybe we should talk.”

Chanyeol nods, his messy hair actually settling into something less chaotic. “I’ll get some pants on,” Chanyeol rumbles.

The bottom of Jongin’s stomach sinks to the floor and he has to make himself walk past Chanyeol and to his room, closing his door and leaning against it. He’s still wearing one shoe. _Holy shit_.

Jongin hastily tugs off his uniform - working at a fried chicken place seemed like a good idea when he’d applied - and tosses it in the corner in the direction of the laundry basket. His other shoe comes off when he walks out of his pants, kicking them away as he searches for the cotton bottoms he’d had on this morning.

His heart is racing, and there’s nervous energy flooding through him as he tries to figure out exactly how to go about this. It’s not like he has experience with this sort of thing. Jongin hangs his head, and nearly walks out of his room without a shirt. With a nervous squeak, he grabs the old tshirt draped over the back of his computer chair and shoves it over his head.

He still smells like chicken, but without a shower, it’s not going away.

Jongin walks back into the living room with far more confidence than he has. Chanyeol is sitting on the couch, looking smaller than Jongin’s ever seen him. His knees are pressed together, and his shoulders are hunched, his head bowed. The tips of his ears are red, and his toes are curled in the carpet.

Jongin sits on the opposite end of the couch, legs folded as he faces Chanyeol. It’s best to face this head-on.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol opens. And he certainly looks sorry.

Jongin lets out a snort of laughter. “Do you apologize to porn after you’ve gotten off?” he says. It’s clear that his brain to mouth filter isn’t working.

Chanyeol looks over at him, jaw slack for a moment before he seems to relax a little. At the very least, his shoulders come down from his ears.

“I’m not mad,” Jongin adds. “I mean, it’s flattering that you think of me. I think - I think we should maybe talk about _why_ you thought of me though. Was it like a one off thing or - ?”

“No,” Chanyeol says, quite confidently too.

And there’s something about that that has Jongin’s stomach twisting, and not in a bad way. He suddenly can’t get the image of Chanyeol pinning him down out of his head. Sure, Jongin’s always thought that Chanyeol was attractive - most people do. He’d just never thought he’d be in Chanyeol’s league, so it was easier never to put himself in the position to get his heart broken. But now?

“Is this a crush thing? Or a nearest person thing?”

“Jongin,” Chanyeol begins, finally turning to look at Jongin. “I’ve liked you for a long time,” he says, and it’s so casual that Jongin could almost ignore the implication in his words. But they sit heavy, like an anchor that keeps Jongin from floating away on the tide. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. We’re friends,” Chanyeol asserts. “And we do the roommate thing well. No one else could have put up with me for so long.”

Jongin chuckles. “You _can_ be quite the handful,” he teases. But that soon goes from lighthearted to painfully arousing because now Jongin is thinking about Chanyeol’s dick in his hand and that’s - that’s new.

“Look, I don’t want to lose what we have,” Chanyeol continues. He pushes his fingers through his hair, and Jongin follows the movement. “But I also don’t want to keep all this bottled up. So I like you. A lot. It doesn’t have to change anything. If you tell me you’re not interested, I’ll try to deal with my feelings in a way that doesn’t bother you.”

“That’s mature of you,” Jongin mumbles. “I appreciate that you’re willing to do that, I do. But could you - could you give me a week?”

Chanyeol tilts his head, forehead scrunched in confusion. He looks like a puppy.

“In the spirit of being honest, I’ve never thought of you that way. But when I heard you - when I _saw_ you - it was very . . . eye opening?”

“Eye opening?”

“Yeah, like it turned me on and I don’t know if it was you specifically or just hormones, you know?”

“So . . ?”

“So give me a week to sort out how I’m feeling and we can revisit this whole feelings thing.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol breathes, finally relaxing enough to spread his legs out like he used to, slumping down into the couch. “Okay, I can act normal for a week.”

Jongin snorts. “I don’t want normal. I want Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol grins. “I can be Chanyeol.”

 

Chanyeol being Chanyeol only proves one thing to Jongin: that maybe Jongin should have walked in on Chanyeol sooner. Jongin thought his imagination would calm down after a day or two, and that the idea of Chanyeol screwing him over every piece of cheap furniture they own would fade away. But it only gets worse. Jongin even finds himself with his trusty vibrator nestled up his ass, and fingers around his cock, getting himself off to the thought of Chanyeol.

For his part, Chanyeol has been the same friendly, considerate roommate and friend that he was before Jongin walked in on him. It’s Jongin who is reacting differently. Their arms brush when they’re shuffling around the kitchen in the morning, and a shiver runs down Jongin’s spine. Chanyeol spoons sugar into his coffee and Jongin stares at Chanyeol’s chest, his arms, his throat when he swallows.

They sit next to each other on the floor in front of the couch to play video games, and when their thighs press together, Jongin feels a rush of heat that settles in his groin and doesn’t go away until he’s in bed, stroking himself to orgasm with his other hand over his mouth as he thinks about Chanyeol’s thighs pinning him down.

Jongin doesn’t think he’s been this consistently horny since he was fifteen. It’s exhausting.

At the end of the one week deadline, Chanyeol is waiting on the couch, takeout on the coffee table and a six pack of cheap beer beside it. Jongin is freshly showered, rid of the smell of greasy chicken, and all kinds of ready for this. He doesn’t sit on the end of the couch, but on the cushion next to Chanyeol, which seems to confuse Chanyeol because his face is doing that scrunching thing again.

Jongin is smiling when he reaches out to smooth the wrinkles between Chanyeol’s eyebrows. “You really make the worst faces.”

Chanyeol pouts, which is honestly unfair. Jongin’s heart does this wobbling thing that makes Jongin think it’s about to fall into the pit of his stomach.

“This really isn’t helping my nerves,” Chanyeol grumbles.

“What about this?” Jongin takes in a deep breath before he leans forward, a palm on Chanyeol’s thigh to steady himself as he kisses Chanyeol. It’s a short, soft kiss, but Jongin can hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and he lets out an audible noise of approval when Chanyeol slides fingers into Jongin’s hair to bring him in for another, better kiss.

Chanyeol teases Jongin’s lips with his tongue, leaves Jongin aching with want before kissing him properly. Jongin pushes into it, nearly climbing into Chanyeol’s lap. It’s been longer than Jongin would like to admit since he’s last been kissed, but he’s never been kissed like this. He’s never been so completely turned on, aching in his cotton pants, because of one kiss.

Chanyeol’s other hand slips beneath Jongin’s shirt to run up his side, gripping tight to pull Jongin the rest of the way onto Chanyeol’s lap. Chanyeol has to scoot away from the arm of the couch, but the moment he does, Jongin’s thighs push against his, and he presses further, wanting more more _more_.

“Does this mean -?” Chanyeol asks, his voice breathy and deeper than usual.

Jongin nods, licking over his already wet lips. “That I’m attracted to you and want to give this a shot? Yeah.”

Chanyeol kisses Jongin, licking into his mouth eagerly as Jongin wiggles on his lap. He sucks in a deep breath, moaning when Chanyeol’s hand slips down the back of his pants. Chanyeol squeezes Jongin’s ass, and Jongin rocks forward, very pleased that he can feel Chanyeol growing hard.

“Wait,” Chanyeol whispers, “wait.”

Jongin lets out a quiet whine, a little embarrassed, but mostly just turned on and wanting Chanyeol to do anything but stop.

“If this is really happening -”

“It is.”

“I’m not fucking you on the couch.”

“Then tell me where you want to fuck me,” Jongin breathes, leaving kisses along Chanyeol’s jaw and down to his neck.

Jongin isn’t prepared when Chanyeol grips the backs of his thighs hard. His hands are huge and Jongin instinctively locks his arms and legs around Chanyeol when he stands. And now there’s no way Chanyeol doesn’t feel how hard Jongin is; the length of his cock is pressed to Chanyeol’s stomach and the pressure is nice, but nowhere near enough.

Chanyeol walks them slowly toward his bedroom as Jongin busies himself with leaving a mark on Chanyeol’s shoulder just because he can. He lands on top of Chanyeol’s bed, cool air rushing in before Chanyeol is over him, his weight settling between Jongin’s legs.

Jongin can’t help it; he moans out Chanyeol’s name, hips rocking against Chanyeol’s as he drags him in for another kiss. He really really loves kissing Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s hands run beneath Jongin’s shirt, dragging the material up. They break only long enough to pull Jongin’s shirt off over his head, then Chanyeol’s right after. Jongin’s fingers glide down Chanyeol’s chest and stomach, teasing around the top of his pants.

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol asks, like he doesn’t quite believe that they’re really doing this.

“Please, Chanyeol,” Jongin begs. “I want you to fill me up until I can’t walk straight.” Jongin unbuttons Chanyeol’s jeans, then pulls down the zipper. “And then I want to cuddle on the couch until we fall asleep.”

“Fuck,” Chanyeol groans, leaning down to kiss Jongin again. “You really are perfect.”

Jongin wiggles Chanyeol’s jeans down his hips as far as he can by himself, but it’s enough to get his hand on Chanyeol’s dick. And it’s really so much better feeling it than it is seeing it. Jongin slides his fingers down the length, then up, thumb smearing precome around the crown. Chanyeol jerks into his touch, his mouth attached to Jongin’s neck as Jongin strokes loosely up and down his cock.

“Am I going to have to do all the work?” Jongin teases.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol grunts. “Sorry. I’ve just been thinking about this for so long,” he adds. “I never thought I’d actually get the chance to touch you this way.”

“Chanyeol, you can touch me any way you want. Just _touch me_.”

Chanyeol lifts onto his knees, staring down at Jongin with so much desire. Jongin shudders, raising his hips when Chanyeol hooks his fingers in his pants and tugs them down. This isn’t the first time they’ve seen each other naked; they’ve been living together, sharing one bathroom too long for that. But this is the first time they can touch, they can explore.

Jongin hooks his legs on Chanyeol’s thighs, bringing him back down. Chanyeol melts against him, their hips rolling together as Jongin’s hands make a path downward. Chanyeol doesn’t have much of an ass, but Jongin enjoys it just the same when he gets his hands on it. He squeezes, teases, and smacks it once just to say he did.

“Enjoying yourself?” Chanyeol laughs.

“I’m getting there,” he replies, grinning until Chanyeol kisses it away. Jongin is quickly becoming addicted to this. He doesn’t know why he’d never considered it before.

Chanyeol fits a hand between them, and Jongin arches into his touch when he strokes down Jongin’s cock, then skims over his balls. “Can I?” Chanyeol asks, his dry fingers circling lightly around Jongin’s rim.

“Please,” Jongin breathes.

Chanyeol shifts enough to grab the lube that was tucked between the mattress and the bed frame. Jongin spreads his legs wider, head falling back with a pleased moan when Chanyeol’s slick fingers push into him. Jongin rocks down on them; his fingers are long, sliding all the way into Jongin when he asks for more. This is so much better than a toy.

Chanyeol drags his mouth over Jongin’s chest, his tongue circling one nipple and then the other. It’s hard to fixate on one sensation when there are so many surging through him, and Jongin is left panting, _begging_ for Chanyeol to just fuck him already. He wants it. _Needs it_.

It’s slippery, too much lube, and Chanyeol’s cock hits against Jongin’s balls several times before the tip nudges through Jongin’s rim enough not to slip out. Jongin relaxes, his fingers buried in Chanyeol’s hair as Chanyeol slowly pushes the rest of the way into him. It’s so much; Chanyeol is thick and long, but not enough to hurt. He fills Jongin just as much as he needs to be filled, and Jongin wiggles his hips, clenching experimentally around Chanyeol’s cock and earning the deepest of moans.

“Keep doing that and I’m going to come,” Chanyeol warns.

Jongin squeezes again. “I thought that was the point.”

Chanyeol rolls his hips, cock sliding out of Jongin nearly all the way. The slide back in is just as slow, just as maddening, and Jongin whimpers. “Now that I finally have you, I plan to make this last.”

“This isn’t a one time thing,” Jongin promises, the air in his lungs forced out with Chanyeol’s next excruciatingly slow thrust. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chanyeol muffles Jongin’s next moan with a kiss. Jongin tries to make him go faster, legs around Chanyeol’s waist, but it doesn’t work. His thrusts are powerful, waiting until he’s half inside Jongin before going just a little quicker to fill him up, then pulling out slow. Over and over, in and out, in and out, Chanyeol unravels Jongin one thread at a time.

Jongin feels as if he’s burning from the inside, the heat spreading from between his legs and crawling through his veins, curling into bows around his limbs as he surrenders to it. Even when Jongin is crying out with every thrust, heaving in deep breaths, resting on that cusp of euphoria, Chanyeol doesn’t change his pace.

He stares down at Jongin, and Jongin stares back, letting Chanyeol fuck him into oblivion, trusting Chanyeol to catch him before he hits the bottom. Jongin almost sobs when Chanyeol fists his cock, loose and wet, to the same rhythm as his thrusting. Jongin’s thighs tremble and his head tips back, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut when he comes. It doesn’t crash into him so much as take him over. The high lingers longer, and the blood rushes in Jongin’s ears as he comes in sticky streaks that pool on his stomach, that trickle down Chanyeol’s fingers.

Jongin has never felt so amazing after an orgasm, and that’s including with other people. He struggles to catch his breath, groaning when he feels Chanyeol’s cock pulsing inside him, hears that groan echoed back as Chanyeol dips lower, pushing pushing _pushing_ as his climax takes him.

Chanyeol rests carefully over Jongin until Jongin brings him down further, willingly accepting his weight. He likes the feel of it, the heat of Chanyeol all over him. He drops several kisses over Chanyeol’s cheek, grinning when Chanyeol turns his head for a wet, sloppy kiss after.

Jongin lets out a pleased sigh, in no hurry to move. Ever. Chanyeol seems to feel the same way, getting comfortable before burying his face in Jongin’s neck.

“Are you always going to be this clingy now?” Jongin asks, mostly teasing, because the idea of Chanyeol cozying up to him anywhere, anytime, is one that makes his heart flutter.

“Yes,” Chanyeol answers without hesitation.

Jongin smiles so hard that his cheeks hurt. “Good,” he says. “Good.”

Chanyeol nuzzles against Jongin and Jongin holds him tighter. “Wake me up when it’s time to shower,” Chanyeol mumbles. “Boyfriend.”

Jongin’s stomach flips. “I will. Boyfriend.”


End file.
